So far, turning 40 has been epically bleak. I’m not going to lie. For those of you who haven’t yet reached this milestone of despair, brace yourselves. It’s been nothing like turning 30, when I felt really, really old but also super relieved to not be in my suicidal twenties anymore. My twenties had been all about reading Sylvia Plath and Anais Nin and journaling about how nobody understands me while popping pills and going through the occasional cutting phase. My thirties, in contrast, were about yoga and Buddhism and self-care and reinvention. Unfortunately, that whole trend seemed to peak about ¾ of the way through the decade, and the last few years have been a rapid decline back into my cold hard atheist roots and occasional rebellious cigarette smoking.
So what lies ahead for the 40s? I suspect I’ll spend a big chunk of it freaking out about my looming 50th birthday. Fuck the what. For now, I just keep repeating the phrase “I’m forty” to myself over and over, to see if it sticks.
(A friend of mine tried to cheer me up by attempting to convince me that the phrase “Life begins at forty” is a thing. It’s not.)
I used to think that Hope For a Better Future was the one thing worth living for. You know, that future when I would have a family, kids, a front porch, etcetera? But I’ve changed my mind. The one thing worth living for, it now seems, is humor. Things that are funny. Like my friends (especially Vanessa) and Oatmeal comics and Shelby Fero on Twitter and this new Ricky Gervais show Extras. I live for other things too. The special connection I share with my feral cat, Budapest. My rich inner life. Whipped cream.
That’s all for now. I’ll let you know if it gets any better.
I started reading your blogs about 4 or 5 months ago (has it been that long). You have given me the inspiration to start writing againg. Your blogs are interesting, funny and most-importantly – truthful. I look forward to many more! Have a wonderful day!
PS: Once you live in the 40’s for a while, you’ll discover that you love it far more than your 30’s. This is the decade when your skin starts to actually fit.
Enjoy!
Fran
Callander Ontario
Well, I’m almost finished with my 40s, and from experience I can attest that it’s possible to grow happier despite the difficulties – which are real, but they always are, at any age, right? But I can’t think of how to express that better without sounding platitudinous.
I have noticed, however, that a lot of strong women start feeling more liberated and empowered than ever before right around 50, because that’s when we get to the point where we say, fuck it, I really don’t care anymore, I’m going to be me and live the best life I can live before I die – and really mean it this time.
Carol, totally appreciate that feedback! I have to say that I think I’ve already reached the “fuck it” phase, which is indeed liberating.